Nothing Like You
by pomatterpie
Summary: All Rachel wants to do is help Kurt win the student body president election, but not before Shelby catches her in the act and causes an overdue confrontation between them to ensue. An S3 HS one-shot.


**A/N: **_For you, A. Also, can't stop, won't stop trying to fix Season 3 S and R. Thanks for reading! _

* * *

"What on earth do you think you're doing?"

Instantly, Rachel turned around and dropped the stack of ballots she had spent the previous night checking, crossing, and scribbling the box next to Kurt Hummel straight to the ground.

And perhaps for the first time in her life, she had absolutely nothing to say.

"_Rachel?" _

Before her mind could even tell her body to pick up the incriminating evidence, she watched the show choir director react milliseconds faster, her elegant and slim form bending down and closing the space between them.

"Are you kidding me, Rachel? You cannot be this stupid right now."

Another half a second passed before Rachel finally found her voice, and more so, her gall.

"I'm not—"

"Yes, _please,_ do tell me how you plan to finish that sentence," the teacher interrupted, a hand moving to her hips, an eyebrow arching in challenge.

And the teenager was apparently up to it.

"What do you want, _Shelby? _What were _you_ doing? Following me? Since when do you even care about _anything_ I do?_"_

A pair of green eyes widened in response, and Rachel faltered in a moment of perceived weakness before slamming her show face back on and refusing to let anything crawl behind it. All her life, her fathers were the only ones who ever knew how to reach behind her mask, who knew the imperceptible finger holds to catch, and who were privy to what was _behind_.

But she'd be damned if she let _her _do the same right now. Not now. Not then. Definitely not after _everything. _No matter how disconcertingly similar, despite the difference in color, those big eyes were to the ones she saw in the mirror every morning.

"I'm holding a stack of _pre-checked _ballots for Kurt that came from your hands. What do you think I want?" Shelby asked incredulously, her mouth slightly ajar at the brazen attitude being directed her way. How did she walk straight into this situation, and she was _still _the one at fault?

"I didn't… I wasn't… I-I was…" Rachel failed to answer, shaking her head in a struggle to conjure up some sort of explanation. She wasn't going to let this _stranger_ get the better of her. She tilted her chin upwards and squared her shoulders, itching for a fight as righteous indignation churned in her belly. "Kurt deserves to win," she stated plainly.

An expression of profound disappointment crossed Shelby's sharp features. "And you're helping him win… by _cheating,"_ she pointed out, her tone in disbelief. "Rachel, this is _wrong_. You do understand that, right?"

"Kurt _needs_ to win! Brittany has no idea what she's doing. He's a better candidate and this is going to be the best outcome for everyone," Rachel snapped, not even remotely interested in what _she _had to say about any of this. Leaning into the adrenaline coursing through her body, she reached over and snatched the ballots back, barely registering the astonishment rapidly taking over the older woman's face.

Again, Shelby's reaction time was a hair faster and she stuck her hand out, gripping and pulling on the other half of the stack of papers. "Rachel, let go," she warned gravely, channeling the frightening command that only years of directing a nationally-renowned show choir team could provide.

"No!" Rachel outright refused, denying the plea in the older voice. "_You _let go."

Shelby shook her head, utterly dumbfounded. From what she thought she knew, she _thought _her daughter was _smarter _than this_, better _than this. And regardless of how Rachel felt about her, she was the adult here. She was in charge. She locked down on her grip, using more strength than she anticipated to pull it away once again from the girl's clutches and instantly began ripping them up.

"I can't believe you just did that! Do you know what you did? You just lost Kurt the election! Thanks a lot, Shelby!"

Tempering her frustrations and failing, Shelby tossed the pieces of paper in the bin and held her hand up to cut off the ensuing protests. "Rachel, _stop_!" she ordered, not unaware of how the girl flinched in response. She breathed in to settle her emotions, thinking quickly.

"Did you actually think this through, Rachel? How many ballots did you have? Because if you stuffed the box without replacing the ones already in there, it's not going to explain the extra number of votes. Kurt will have more votes than there are seniors to account for. Did you think about that? They're going to know that it was tampered with immediately! And _then _what were you going to do, Rachel? Huh? At that point you would have lost the election for _your friend Kurt_ and _he_ would have been in trouble and accused of cheating. Were you going to confess if it came down to it? Would you have been okay with getting suspended, Rachel? Would you have been _fine_ with missing out on Sectionals?" She contended, giving into her frustrations, and now gulping mouthfuls of air that were somehow struggling to reach her lungs.

Effectively censured, Rachel took an unwitting step back, away, bumping into the table behind her. "I-I…"

Suddenly, the curtain into the voting booth was pulled back and Will popped his head in, concerned then shocked. "Hey! Wh-what are you two doing in here? Everything okay? I was walking by and thought I'd heard both of your voices," he asked, frowning at his student's demeanor. "Rach? Are you okay? What's going on?"

Shelby watched her daughter look to her for a brief second, but not for help, rather out of fear, and she swore, _swore_ she felt her heart crack into two.

"Mr. Schue… I was just…" Rachel began, nonplussed.

Far swifter under pressure again, Shelby responded first. "Hey, Will. Rachel here was just finishing up putting in her _vote_," emphasizing the singular noun. "I'm helping Coach Beiste collect ballot boxes for the tally and thought this booth was empty and came in without warning and scared Rachel. I was just apologizing," she said, guilt coiling in her stomach at the girl's surprisingly contrite expression. A first that she's ever seen. Maybe she didn't handle that properly. "I'm _sorry _about that, honey," she offered sincerely.

"Oh alright," Will said, accepting the explanation at face value, shrugging his shoulders. "Rach, you sure you're okay?"

At the direct question thrown her way, Rachel stamped down on the random blitz of emotions currently accosting her and hurriedly slipped her show face back on again. "Yeah, I'm fine," she nodded convincingly, injecting some life into her performance. "I was just a little rattled, but I'm okay now. Happy to have cast my vote for Kurt."

"Great!" Will beamed, unfazed by it all. "So back to class now then, Rach?"

"Actually, it's her free period and Rachel was just about to come to my office for a little chat," Shelby answered for them both, hand on her shoulder and guiding her daughter out of the booth.

"Oh? About what?" Will questioned, suspicion dripping.

"Nothing about glee or sectionals," Shelby assured with an irritated sigh at the assumption. Between the two of them, she would never be the one to be that obtuse. "Just to discuss that letter of recommendation for NYADA, isn't that right Rachel?"

Rachel made a point to keep her face blandly polite. She also wanted Mr. Schue to leave. "Yup," she confirmed through clenched teeth, forcibly pulling her shoulders away from her mother's touch. "That's right. Shelby, sorry, _Miss Corcoran_, was just about to print me out a copy."

"Alright then," Will said with an accepting nod, smiling at the mother and daughter, all of the contention between them flying right over his head. "Cool, I'll see you guys later then!"

As soon as the Spanish teacher was yards away and out of earshot, Shelby turned to regard the teenager, _her teenager, _seriously. "Rachel, I really think we should talk. Please?"

Rachel scowled, considering the women right back. "_No,"_ she decided, feeling pretty good about that._ "_Absolutely not," she reiterated then turned on her heel and stormed away without another word, finally besting the woman's reaction time.

* * *

"Rachel!" Shelby called out the moment she spotted her daughter moving swiftly through the sea of students at the other end of the hallway.

She picked up her pace and pushed past through the crowds, trying to get to Rachel before the girl can run away like they all know she had a tendency to do.

"Wait, Rachel!"

She caught up to her right before Rachel could round the corner. When she turned to meet her, shock then anger in quick succession filtered onto her face. "No, Shelby. I don't want to talk to you. I get it. Point made. I was wrong. You were right. And you stopped me anyway, so I didn't even do it. Kurt's going to lose. I hope you're happy. Can we move on now and go back to pretending like the other doesn't exist?"

Shelby retreated slightly and forced herself to keep the hurt tucked away, far away. "Rachel," she tried again, taking in a breath after a long time. "I'm not the one here who was just caught trying to _cheat_," she couldn't help but argue, though she knew better. "So you have a lot of nerve speaking to me in that way right now. In case you've forgotten, I am still a teacher here and, despite how you feel, you need to show me the respect I deserve."

"You don't _deserve_ anything from me!" Rachel erupted, resentment festering and rippling right through her. "_You_ made that decision when you left, remember? _You_'_re_ the one who chose this for us. I don't owe you anything!"

Shelby stood there frozen for what must have been mere seconds, but genuinely felt like an eternity, trying to recall any single one of the breathing exercises she's learned over the years in order to get the oxygen back into her lungs.

"In fact, I wish I had _nothing_ to do with you," the barrage continued.

At that, Shelby threw caution to the wind and captured the girl's free wrist with a firm grip. "Come with me," she demanded, her own anger clouding her judgment. "Now, Rachel. Do not test me," tightening her hold when she tried to break free.

"Let me go! Or I'll scream!"

"_Then scream,_" the woman replied fearlessly, marching them toward the closest place they could talk.

"_Shelby!_"

Employing a brisker pace, the teacher barged through the library doors and instantly zeroed in her smoldering gaze at the one student and the faculty member sitting there quietly. "Leave, _now,_" she hissed ordered. "You have exactly thirty seconds," she warned, doubling down on her fiery glare.

Without protest, and almost comically, both jumped up to their feet, clamored to gather their belongings, and sprinted out with a few seconds to spare. This was the one instance that Shelby was truly grateful that her Coach Corcoran reputation preceded her around campus.

When the door slammed shut, only then did she let go of her grip.

"I _hate _you," Rachel spat out, immediately putting some necessary distance between them. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"I was trying to help you, Rachel! How am I the bad guy here if all I was doing was stop you from making a mistake? Do you still not understand that what you were trying to do was wrong?"

"Because I didn't ask you to help!" Rachel folded her arms and willed herself to maintain eye contact, regardless of how desperately she wanted to look away. "It would have been fine! I _wouldn't_ have gotten caught. Figgins doesn't care anyway and nobody pays any attention. I would have gotten away with it! Kurt would have won if you hadn't ruined my plan! Again. God! You _always_ ruin everything."

Shelby paused momentarily then laughed, _actually _laughed. Of course. _Of course,_ the one kid in the world that was biologically hers _would_ end up being the most stubborn one of them all.

"Stop that. Why are you laughing?" Rachel whined, a deep pout pulling on her lips.

"Because..." Shelby shook her head in stark realization, one that was nearly eighteen years in the making. "Because, _you _are just like me, little girl."

"No, I'm not," Rachel wanted to squeeze her hands together, but determined to keep her arms crossed in contempt. Giving away her anxiety wouldn't help her win this battle with her mother. "I'm _nothing _like you."

"You know what, Rachel? I don't actually think that's true," Shelby replied calmly, pulling out a chair and lowering herself down with careless grace. "I think you and I are far more alike than we realize. I think you and I are the same. And I think _that _is exactly our problem here, kid."

"_No,_" Rachel bit down on her lip, shaking her objection, refusing to be swayed because apart from her looks and her talent, she wanted _nothing _else from her birth mother. "That's _not _true. You're… you are selfish and manipulative and you… you do whatever you want with no regard to others. I'm not… _no. _You and I are not the same._"_

Shelby ran her hands over her face slowly in order to settle her emotions, still trying to summon the how-to on those breathing exercises and coming up short. Four years of musical theater school. And for what.

She drew in a sharp inhale. "Rachel, why did you want Kurt to win so badly?"

"Because he was the better candidate," Rachel said so obviously. "And so he could have the position on his resume for his NYADA application. He needs student body president on his CV in order for it to be competitive. It'll boost his shot at getting in."

Shelby only offered a slow nod, as if encouraging her to go on.

At her silence, Rachel continued, feeling the need to defend herself now. "He deserves to go to NYADA with me. I _need _him there."

There it was. "So you admit it then?" Shelby pounced at the misstep. "By that logic, you were trying to rig the election, just so _you _could have a better chance of going to college with Kurt. Not because it's something that he asked you to do for him or because you wanted him to win without getting anything out of it. But _you _were willing to cheat because _you_ _need_ed him to win."

Rachel opened her mouth to argue once more but Shelby cut her off from speaking, going for the fast break to hammer in her point.

"And this isn't the first time that I've heard of you doing something devious like this either, Rachel. I know what you did to Sunshine. _Everybody _in the show choir community knows what you did to Sunshine, and is that really the reputation that you want, Rach? Do you want to be known as the girl who's so afraid of sharing and unwilling to give up the spotlight that she resorts to sending her competition, innocent people, to crack houses and almost getting them deported?"

"Okay, but I didn't send her to an _active_ crack house," Rachel repeated for the umpteenth time, rolling her eyes. When will people let that one go? She did it for her team. She did it out of love. It wasn't her fault that nobody ever understood that.

Shelby couldn't help herself and let out another laugh. "Are you hearing yourself, Rachel? That's _not_ the point. The point is, you're better than that! I _know _you are. So why do you feel like you have to resort to such underhanded tactics to get what you want? Why do you feel like you have to lie and cheat? I don't understand. You are sincerely a bright and talented kid. To me, you're exceptional. Bar none. You don't _need_ to do any of that. There's no good reason to be dishonest."

"Why do you!?" Rachel countered back, shouting this time. "Or have we all conveniently forgotten about the fact that _you_ sent _your student_ to_ seduce me_ just so you could get closer to me!"

"I told Jesse to _befriend _you_,_" Shelby was quick to correct, physically cringing at the reminder, filling again with instant regret any time she thought about this, _all the time_ that she thought about this.

"Who cares!" Rachel threw her hands up in the air, her anxiety and anger winning out. "Who even cares because it was all a waste anyway! What was it all for if you were just going to decide that you wanted nothing to do with me two seconds after you met me? What the hell was the point of all of that Shelby, if you were just going to decide that I wasn't good enough for you? If we're talking about underhanded, I'm not the one who found a way to go around and break a contract, an agreement that was meant to _protect_ me, for purely selfish reasons."

"_Rachel…" _Shelby recoiled at that, this time unable to keep the hurt at bay. She moved to stand up. That one was too much, too far. And Rachel was wrong. It wasn't _completely _selfish. It was fear. It was her insecurities. It was her, two years ago, genuinely thinking, _believing_, that her daughter deserved more than what little she felt she could offer back then. It was… a mistake. "That's not—"

"No," Rachel didn't want to hear it, couldn't. "No. You… you broke me," she lifted her hand to swipe at her eyes when her mother's lines began to blur together. "You and Jesse. I-I loved him. He broke my heart. And you… you walked away. You left me. And I-I don't even know why. I can't be… I'm nothing, n_othing _like you."

"Rachel, I'm so sorry," Shelby reached out towards her, but Rachel shied away from her outstretched hand.

"No," she repeated, starting to walk away again. It felt like her word and go-to move of the day. "No, Shelby. I'm done."

* * *

Her focus split evenly between the row filled with decades worth William H. McKinley yearbooks and the entrance to the library, Shelby worked quickly to find what she was looking for.

After pulling the desired academic year off the shelf, she blew the layer of dust off the top then opened it up to rifle through the pages, the memories, _her_ memories, one after the other, automatically flooding her mind.

Satisfied, she closed it back up then rose to her feet and tucked it under her arm, now ready to search for her daughter who _had_ to still be in the area because she made certain that the girl hasn't walked through the doors anytime during the last fifteen minutes she had used to collect herself.

She blew past the rows of fiction books, and headed straight for non-fiction, hedging her bets on the biographies. When she saw the small figure on the ground underneath the Sondheim section, she felt the already broken parts of her heart crumble into even more pieces.

The girl's chin was tucked deep inside her chest, eyes screwed close, and shoulders hunched forward. Her long, brown hair was covering her face like a veil, and Shelby briefly wondered how many times her daughter has cried because of _her_, how many times either of them had. And how many more times they will if she doesn't own up and fix things between them.

She swallowed hard, set aside her own feelings for once, and paved the way instead for the maternal instincts that seemed intent on strangling her every time the girl was in her vicinity.

"Rachel, are you okay?"

At the non-answer, Shelby stepped closer to her. She could handle a screaming, raging Rachel. A painfully stubborn one. A Rachel who swore up and down that she _hated_ her. But a quiet one just felt like a knife to the gut.

"Rach, I'm so sorry," she said softly, all the fight leaving her body. When the girl finally did look up, the first thing she noticed and heard was her uneven and ragged breathing. She'd never seen Rachel cry before, and the distress on her face was too much for her.

Propelled by concern, she moved to sit on the ground next to her daughter and scooted as close as she could get. Her hand hovered over the girl's knee, almost afraid to touch her, before she placed it down to draw her attention. "Hey, you're alright Rach," she assured. "Can you just try breathing for me, honey? I need you to calm down."

Half a second passed in silence before Rachel shook her head. "I…" she swallowed audibly, losing fast control of her emotions. "Go away…" her breath caught in her chest, cutting off her words while the tears continued to track down her face.

"No," Shelby refused, throwing her arms around her, only realizing in the moment just how _small _and _young_ her daughter, her baby was. "I'm not leaving you like this, Rachel. Absolutely not. You don't have to talk to me but I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

Rachel fidgeted to shuffle away but Shelby only held on tighter. "Rachel, just breathe. It'll be okay. Breathe for me, baby, you'll feel better. Breathe in, hold, one... two… three… and blow out," she coached gently, over and over again until she felt her tense body relax in her arms. "That's it Rach, you got this, keep going."

It took a few minutes more for some semblance of calm to enter her body, but after she regained some of her composure, Rachel finally allowed herself to glance up at her mother, wishing that she didn't feel as comfortable as she did in her arms right now. She pulled away. "Sorry, I'm fine," she said with a false conviction. "Thanks. I'm okay."

Shelby sighed and dropped her eyes to the floor at the rejection. She deserved that. The distance, physical and emotional and otherwise, it was all only there because of _her. _"Rachel, I'm sorry," she repeated again, turning her head to face her child. This was the only way she knew how to start. "I'm _so _sorry."

"For what?" Rachel questioned dejectedly, equally exhausted of arguing, fighting, struggling with everything when it came to Shelby.

"It all, I guess," Shelby said aloud for the first time since she's moved back to Lima. "I am sorry for everything that I put you through. I should have said this to you when I came to you in the auditorium that day. I'm sorry, especially, for walking away."

"Why did you?"

"There are many reasons," Shelby admitted with a discontented sigh. "But none of them were because of you, Rachel. I promise you that. You were… you _are_ everything that I've ever wanted in a daughter. You… you're amazing. Earlier, I wasn't trying to put you down, Rach. I know you're a good kid. I know you mean well. Your dads have done a wonderful job raising you. It wasn't _you_," she made sure to lock eye contact. "There is _nothing_ wrong with you, and you were then, you are now, and you always will be more than _enough_ for me, okay? No matter what you think, I need you to at least please try to believe me when I say that."

Rachel nodded but remained silent, imploring her mother to continue.

"I love you," Shelby allowed herself to say to her daughter, also for the first time, giving a quivery smile. "I do. I love you now as much as the day you were born. I love you now as much as I love Beth. I always have, Rachel. I always will. I love you more than you will probably ever believe or even understand. Regardless of what sort of relationship that we have, if at all, you will always be my daughter. Maybe that's not… I don't know if I deserve to think of you in that way, but that's what you are to me. Then and now."

"Then why do you continuously act like I don't mean anything to you?" Rachel wondered, offering her insecurities, peeling the mask back just slightly. "I mean you've been back a month and you've barely looked at me."

"Because you asked me for space, Rachel," Shelby replied sadly. "After everything, I didn't feel like I could deny you that. I wanted to reach out. I was hoping for us to try again, whatever that means to the both of us, but I-I was just scared."

"I didn't mean it," Rachel confessed, hanging her head to her chest again, blinking fast, blinking hard to stave away the tears that threatened to spill yet again. "I just… all I want is for you to care about me. Even if it's just a little."

"I _do_ care about you," Shelby insisted, detesting that she even had to say that at all. "I care about you a great deal, and a whole lot more than just a little. I can promise you that."

Rachel inhaled a lungful of air and leaned her head back against the bookshelf in resignation. That's what she always wanted to hear, and she always thought that it would make things _okay_ whenever she finally got that from Shelby. A tabula rasa for them both. But somehow, it has only made her feel worse. Maybe it was easier to accept a version of Shelby that didn't seem to give a damn about her. It was easier for her to accept _that_ Shelby as the one who replaced her, who left her, who didn't look back. Not the one who said she loved her and cared for her and then acted the opposite.

"I know that's not going to fix everything, but I want to prove it to you too, Rachel, if you'll allow me," Shelby asked hopefully, her eyes pleading.

Rachel hesitated. She wasn't expecting that offer and didn't know what to say. She didn't know what she wanted. "What's the difference? Why now?" She opted for assurance.

Shelby nodded expectantly. That was a fair question. She hasn't given the girl a reason to trust her. Rachel had been burned before, and by her own hands, no less. The skepticism was more than warranted.

"Well… Beth," she replied truthfully, catching Rachel's face fall. "And you, honey. _You_. Being a mother. That's the difference now."

"I don't understand."

Shelby stopped to gather herself and also coached herself mentally to breathe like she did with her daughter earlier, taking a few in to steady herself. "Recently, I've been working on myself. I've been in therapy and I've been trying, in my everyday, to confront the issues that I've struggled with my entire life."

Rachel stared at her curiously, taken aback by the candor. It was refreshing as it was unnerving.

"Rachel," Shelby struggled to explain. "I don't… I would never try to posit this as something that's inherently wrong with you because it isn't, it's something that I don't think you and I can necessarily help or control. But the reason why earlier I said that you and I are alike is because I _do_ see a lot of myself in you. The good and the bad. All my life, I've always fought with and against my perfectionism, my fear of failure, my insecurities. And I've also always been a driven, ambitious, and passionate person like yourself. And a combination of all of that has led me to yes, some, manipulative and sneaky behavior, and to some decisions that may have been selfish in retrospect. Is that… are those things that you can relate to? Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"Yeah, I don't know, kind of, I guess," Rachel offered after some consideration. A part of her had always chalked up her behavior to possessing that killer instinct to get what she wanted, to get to the top. She thought it was what set her apart. She had never really considered that she wanted it so badly because of other reasons that she wasn't ready or willing to face just yet.

"I don't… I'm not," Shelby sighed, frowning. "I am not trying to call you out here or throw your flaws in your face. I'm just… I see me in you, but I don't want you to make the same mistakes as me moving forward. Because you're better than that and you deserve more than that. It's all out there, and it's all just ahead of you, Rach. And I don't want you to end up where I am and in a place where you're a little regretful and sort of wishing that you had done certain things differently. I-I think it's okay for you to be you, Rachel. I think it's perfectly fine for you to go and own that drive and that passion that makes you so unique. You deserve to go as far as your hard work and ambition will take you. But you need to make sure, Rach, that you are going to be happy with yourself and the decisions that you've made when you get there. Speaking from experience, you have to be able to look back and see that you've acted and carried yourself in a way where you're still able to look at yourself in the mirror and accept what you see."

Shelby stopped and leaned over to swipe her thumb across her daughter's cheeks. "Because, I didn't, Rachel. It took me too long to figure that out, and one day I woke up and I realized that it had cost me the biggest consequence yet. I had lost _you_ and I had hurt _you_. And I'm not okay with that. I can't accept that, so I want to try to fix it, if you'll let me. I need to try again with you, and for us."

And for Shelby, that was the difference this time around. She resolved to do and be better for her daughter. For both of them. There wasn't any room, moving forward, for her to give any more weight, than she can help, to her fears and insecurities. There was no need or reason for any sneaking around, cutting corners, or manipulation in trying to be a good mother, in trying to be a better person. It was a lesson she learned the hard way, and didn't want her daughter to spend her entire life getting around to.

"Okay," Rachel said simply, understanding as best as she was able to, at least in this context. "Yeah. I think I get it. Really. I'm… I am sorry about earlier. You were right. I was acting selfishly and I wasn't even thinking about how it was going to affect Kurt, because I was so sure that I was right. But I don't… I never really mean to hurt anyone. I hope you know that."

"I do know that Rach," Shelby acknowledged. She did. She truly believed that the girl wasn't intentionally malicious by any means. She was just somewhat misguided and a bit impulsive, but they could work on that, they could curb it. "I meant what I said earlier. You're smart, talented, and hardworking, that much I know about you. You just have to stay focused. And you need to work on taking responsibility for your actions. I know you're more than capable of that. And I think maybe," she smirked. "You also have to come to terms that you're not always going to be right, kid."

Rachel laughed, her cheeks flushing. "Well, I'll definitely try the focusing and the staying accountable, but the admitting I'm wrong thing is a _much_ harder ask."

"Fair," Shelby chuckled. "We'll work on it together then. Small steps."

"_We_ will?"

"Do _you _want us to, honey?"

Rachel had a much easier time answering that this time around. "Yeah. I suppose we can also try that."

"Give it our best shot?" Shelby nudged.

"Only if you promise not to tell Mr. Schue what I was trying to do," Rachel pitched hopefully. She could start anew tomorrow, but today she still needed to practice some self-preservation.

"Only if _you_ try not to sabotage any more student body elections," Shelby counter offered, shaking her head in amusement but then grew serious. "I am fine with keeping this between us, Rach, as long as you promise to take everything we spoke about here to heart. I seriously need you to, kid. I am only trying to look out for you."

Rachel nudged back, leaning against her mother. "Okay. I promise I will. I _am_ sorry, Shelby. I swear. Thanks for not letting me ruin everything for Kurt. And myself. I think I probably owe you."

"You don't," Shelby shrugged it off, contemplating for a moment. She was Rachel's mother. She was _supposed _to look out for her, she was _supposed_ to be around to guide her in the right direction. She wasn't supposed to be hiding or staying away because she was scared. "But I would love for us to maybe stop _pretending like the other doesn't exist?_ Do you think that maybe we could see each other outside of school? If you and your dads are okay with it? We can… maybe we can finally grab that dinner together?"

Rachel peered at the woman in slight shock, transported right back to the memory of their first meeting at the Carmel auditorium, and she had never felt the passage of time hit her quite as hard as this specific moment.

"What? To get over the initial shock of the last two years?"

"Yup. That's exactly right," Shelby laughed at the teasing. "It's on me."

"Sure," Rachel granted. "I'd like that too," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. She turned to Shelby again when she felt her mother's gaze settle heavily on her. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No," Shelby shook her head, wondering if she'd ever tire of that. "I just…" she reached over, picking up the yearbook she had relegated to the ground earlier. She thumbed through until she found the designated page. "I know you said you don't think we're anything alike, but I don't know, I just wanted to show you this."

Rachel took the yearbook in her hands, scanning her eyes across the page. "I didn't even know you went to McKinley," she mused, growing quiet when she found her mother's senior class portrait. And Rachel instantly felt like she was looking at a picture of herself that could have been taken today. Especially when Shelby was younger, they were even more identical than they were now, than she thought was possible. "And you did glee back then, too?"

"Yeah," Shelby shared. "I was also in a bunch of the same clubs as you're in now. I noticed when I was writing your letter of recommendation, and thought that was a funny coincidence. But, yes, I was also the show choir co-captain, just like you."

Rachel tilted her head, staring at her mother, smiling. "Yeah… just like me," she was finally happy to accept. "And just like you."


End file.
